Steps to Immortality
by Teslyn
Summary: [Orochimaru fic] Orochimaru wasn’t always obsessed with immortality. Actually, it was quite the contrary... But that all changed as he took his first steps towards his twisted goal. This is how he became who he is.[R&R]
1. Step One

**A/N:**

**Yay!**

**I love humor, so I couldn't help but put the tiniest bit in. **

**Also, which episode has the flashback of Orochimaru recruiting Sound-nins? Please let me know in a review/PM! Gracias! **

**Yes these are short, becase they were orignally meant to all be put together. So yea...**

**Steps to Immortality**

**_-Step One-_**

To set oneself on the path. To begin building what would become one of the most feared shinobi of all times. (To feel sadistic for the first time.)

**- - - - - - - -**

Orochimaru wasn't always obsessed with immortality. Actually, it was quite the contrary. There was a time when he, as a young boy, viewed death as the greatest adventure a soul could go through. He found it fascinating, because nobody but the dead knew what happened after you kicked the bucket – and the dead couldn't tell you. It intrigued him, taunted him, and at times, (like when his parents had a particularly nasty fight) he wanted to move onto death quicker – to learn the secret quicker. But that all changed when he took his first steps towards his twisted goal of immortality and power.

He was six. He came home from a day at the Academy only to find his parents fighting. Again. For as long as he could remember, Orochimaru's parents had fought. It was endless, tiring, and infinitely annoying. As he walked in the door, perfect scores from his last exam in hand, he stopped short. He could barely contain his rage as he watched his mother and father scream at each other. His shaking fingers dropped his test.

As he bent to pick them back up (why he bothered, he didn't know. After all, his parents were just going to throw them out after glancing at them once, or not at all) he saw it. His mother had been cooking part of dinner. She had been making dango from the looks of the black, burnt lumps in the oven. The young boy's breath caught in his throat as he realized that the beyond-repair dango were no longer dark crisps that once resembled food.

They were orange and red and yellow, and danced with a burning intensity, seemingly alive. More alive then the monotonous life Orochimaru lived – go to the Academy, get good grades, come home, watch his parents fight, and then tuck himself into bed and cry himself to sleep. (Because being a prodigy wasn't all rainbows and butterflies.) **(1)**

And then the live heat jumped from the dango to the oven. Orochimaru stepped away from the doorframe, leaving his bag inside as he watched the flames lick the walls from his vantage point in a tree. His fascination grew as his rather docile father (who usually sneered and critiqued in a quiet, sarcastic way) began screaming and pointing at the fire. Orochimaru, quite safe high in the tree, read his parent's lips as they started to act frantic.

'Where's the boy?' That was his father.

'Oh my god. Orochimaru! His backpack is here!' His mother.

'Quick! Check his room – he's probably somewhere in the house!' His father again.

'… We can't let him die. He's going to be the greatest shinobi ever!' His mother again.

Hidden in the green foliage, Orochimaru sneered at his parents' reactions to the fire, and their words about him. They only noticed him when their precious shinobi-prodigy was in trouble. He was their ticket to fame – that last statement held none of the pride a mother had for her genius son – just the greed and desire to become well-known for raising a star Konoha-nin and perhaps, even, a Hokage. And then the young Orochimaru stared in interest as the deadly heat blocked off the exits from the house. He watched as it trapped his parents in the kitchen. And he took a twisted pleasure in hearing their desperate, pain-filled screams as the fiery inferno consumed them.

And then their voices stopped abruptly.

'Pathetic.' Orochimaru thought to himself. 'I will never die in such a… demeaning way. Killed by dango and a quarrel. No… I do think I shall ever die.'

As people gathered around the house, mourned for the shocked, detached little boy who was in such a state that he couldn't even cry, a new person was born.

Someone who vowed to learn the secrets of immortality so he would not share his parents' pathetic fates.

And through it all, a new pereson was born.

A quiet, genius, _twisted _little boy who would become one of the greatest shinobi Konoha would ever see.

Golden eyes blinked at the people surrounding him.

"I will be all right. They did not love me. I am not sad." Orochimaru stated simply. The people stared at their prodigy before a grandmotherly woman enveloped the unnaturally pale boy in a suffocating hug. "The poor, dear boy doesn't know what he's saying! He's so shocked by the grief! Oh, he's being such a dear."

"The kid will be a great shinobi - he's already trying to conceal his emotions," a random Chuunin whispered to his comrade standing next to him. Both of them nodded approvingly, as others who heard joined in. Nobody seemed to realize that Orochimaru was not just acting - he geniunely _didn't care_.

And all the boy could do while the fire department quelled the raging fire was wait for someone to save him from the woman as he inwardly cursed her. He was only six, after all.

And yet, through it all, new person was born.

A sadistic, mentally screwed up, traumatized little six-year-old.

**A/N:**

**(1) This is true. Look at all the prodigies we have:**

**Orochimaru - sick pedophile after power and Sasuke**

**Jiraiya - he's a pervert who mourns the loss of Orochimaru**

**Tsunade - she's an acoholic and a gambler. that can never be good**

**Itachi - killed his family**

**Sasuke - emo brooding boy**

**Neji - curses fate (though he does get better)**

**The end. Of Chapter One that is. Originally, it was going to be one big, long oneshot, but then I was like 'screw this. I can't think of anything for Step 3 and I feel like uploading Steps 1 and 2'**

**So yea. This has been sitting in my personal password-protected folder for about… a week. **

**-Aes Sedai**


	2. Step Two

**Steps to Immortality**

_**-Step Two-  
**_

To learn to enjoy oneself… and then deny the fun and pleasure a nine-year-old should have in order to achieve the goal. (To thrust oneself into society as others laugh as you flounder.)

**- - - - - - - -**

He was nine. So were Jiraiya and Tsunade-hime. All three of them being prodigies (though only Kami-sama knew why Jiraiya was seen as a 'genius') they had all been placed in the same genin team. It annoyed the hell out of Orochimaru. He was stuck with two imbeciles who wanted to play when all the pale-faced boy wanted to do was study the new scroll of Katon jutsus Sarutobi-sensei had lent him.

"Orochimaru-san, come play with us!" Tsunade urged.

"Come _on,_ Orochi-kun!" Jiraiya chirped, tugging on the arm Orochimaru wasn't using to cradle the valuable scroll. Orochimaru's face paled ever so slightly in anger, and Tsunade shivered at the sudden chill. Jiraiya failed to notice the small amount of killer intent the other nine-year-old boy was leaking, though Tsunade was not as oblivious. She backed away discretely, and watched, all the while praying for her baka of a new teammate's life.

"_Orochi-kun_?" the golden-eyed boy hissed in anger. Tsunade winced as she watched the quiet boy placed the scroll down gently, twisted, and hit Jiraiya in the stomach with the back of his hand. The loud-mouthed idiot was forced to loosen his hold on Orochimaru as he went sailing into a tree, hitting it with a thump that drew a satisfied smirk to Orochimaru's lips. Tsunade never asked Orochimaru to play again. Jiraiya (still) did. Many times (and he has the scars to show for it).

And then there was that one time when Jiraiya had been standing in the doorway to Orochimaru's apartment, hoping to cut him off and force him to join Tsunade and himself. Orochimaru had been walking home, his face buried yet another Katon-related scroll (though this one was on the history of Katon jutsus, not teaching the jutsus themselves). As he crossed the threshold to his home, he was stopped by another body. Unfortunately, Orochimaru pulled his head out of the scroll at the exact moment Jiraiya leaned closer to see what Orochimaru had been reading. The awkward angling, the untimely timing, and the fact that Fate wanted to screw with the already mentally deranged social outcast caused Orochimaru's and Jiraiya's lips to meet.

Jiraiya shrieked and jerked away, fingers caressing his throat as he hacked and tried to get the feeling of the other boy's lips off of his own. Orochimaru merely pivoted, twisted, and punched Jiraiya out of his house and into a strategically placed metal pole. Tsunade broke into peals of laughter when Jiraiya relayed the turn of events to her that night, earning dirty glares from the medic-nin who was trying to heal the arm that Jiraiya jerked away to point a mock-angry finger at Tsunade.

"See you bright n' early tomorrow, dumbass." Tsunade told the pouting Jiraiya as she left.

The next morning, neither Orochimaru nor Jiraiya looked at each other. And when their eyes did happen to meet, a blush stained both of their cheeks.

There was also that day when the ground was covered in white snow, looking serene (until Jiraiya got to it). That was the day when Sarutobi-sensei coerced Orochimaru into joining Jiraiya and Tsunade as they frolicked in the knee-high snow in the training field they had claimed for their team.

"Orochimaru. I have a new Katon scroll the Uchihas lent me. I'll lend it to you under one condition…" Orochimaru looked up eagerly.

"Go play. With your teammates." The delighted look on Orochimaru's face was instantly wiped away and replaced with a scowl.

"…"

"So, what do you say you go out and have fun? There's time for studying some other day when the weather isn't so nice." Sarutobi did his best to cajole his anti-social student to re-immerse himself in the social world. The student in question scowled even more fiercely.

"When the weather isn't so nice? This" – Orochimaru gestured to the scene outside the window, - "_Isn't_ a nice day! It's gray out, Sarutobi-sensei, and there's _snow_ all over ground and you can't walk an inch without getting wet." Sarutobi chuckled, his amusement only serving to infuriate his star student even further. Muttering in anger, Orochimaru jumped to his feet and made his way to the door. Yanking his scarf off of the coat-rack, he stalked outside.

Jiraiya cheered when Orochimaru came outside, oblivious to his sour mood. "Orochi-kun! Yay!" Jiraiya punched the air in victory. Tsunade contented herself with packing snowball discretely, and chucking it at the back of Orochimaru's head. As the snow crunched on impact, Orochimaru whirled around and gave Tsunade his best death glare.

"SNOWBALL FIGHT!" Jiraiya roared, and immediately began sending countless snowballs that he had hidden behind a rock. In less than two minutes, both Orochimaru and Tsunade had dived behind a tree stump, completely covered in snow. Tsunade quickly packed ten snowballs and retaliated. Orochimaru didn't bother with his hands. His unnatural tongue scooped up a mouthful of snow and whipped it at Jiraiya.

…

Later that day, Tsunade treated Orochimary and Jiraiya ramen at a ramen stand. "One miso ramen, please."

"Same for me too," Jiraiya piped.

"The same, I suppose."

"Excuse me, sir, what was that?"

Orochimaru's eyes twitched. "One miso ramen."

"Excuse me, sir, could you speak a little louder?"

"ONE MISO RAMEN!" Orochimaru yelled in annoyance. Everyone within the general vicinity stared at him, and the ramen man winced. "Sorry, sir."

Jiraiya laughed in spite of the evil look Orochimaru was giving the ramen man, Tsunade, the villagers, and Jiraiya himself. Five minutes later the man returned with the ramen, only to find the genin laughing hysterically – even the dark-haired, quiet boy.

…

Later that day, Orochimaru curled up on his couch, nose buried into his new Katon scroll. 'That was… fun today. Too fun. I cannot get soft now… I _cannot_. I _must_ not.'

As he thought, he reinforced his walls, and he was refined.

He was a quiet, Katon/Immortality-obsessed boy who refused to have fun with his teammates, for fear of being swayed from hi sultimate goal.

Curling under the blanket for warmth, Orochimaru ventured further into the scroll. When Jiraiya rang the doorbell, probably asking to play hide-and-go-seek in the dark, Orochimaru ignored him.

As he read, and ignored, he was refined.

He was an anti-social little boy who reveled in being a social outcast.

**A/N:**

**Yayness! Isn't Orochimaru so sweet... not!**

**-Aes Sedai**


End file.
